One of her last remaining Snakeshead died from his wounds,
Restating his oath to serve Andulan before slipping beneath the black,
No song awaited him on the other side, only pools of venom,
On an island of silence.
That killed down to the last, knew his survival was heavy,
So he tore off a symbol of his responsibilty, from a brotherly neck.
Andulan was found passed out and alone, with a starry sky above to glimpse upon,
It didn't exist for him, all that mattered was that his beloved was still alive,
Battered and bruised, but living nonetheless.
He carried her off into the forest, taking her to a clearing beside a frog filled pond.
It croaked with slimy life, pouches of green littered the vernal pool, filled with capsules.
It was a melodious, low pitched song that eased him to sleep beside her,
He'd wake up with her lying over him.
